


Star Trek: Rapture

by BioPan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cyborgs, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enterprise, F/M, Five Year Mission, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Pre-Five Year Mission, Rapture (BioShock), Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Star Trek: AOS, Starfleet, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-19 11:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BioPan/pseuds/BioPan
Summary: There's spaceships, pointy-eared hob-goblins, mysteries abound, a cyborg (or two), crazy scientist, an underwater city that is...uhm...not doing too well. There's the Enterprise in all her glory. There's James T. Kirk...IN A THONG. I'm kidding. There's suffering though. There's all the Star Trek goodness and a little dash of Bioshock thrown in there as well. This is a very long slow burn, a pretty interesting mystery and slight horror story, the amazingness that is the Enterprise and her crew, and a cyborg with a tough outer shell and one hell of a past. There's emotional baggage and angst everywhere. It's gonna hurt - oh so good.





	1. Back From the Brink

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there. I bet you're wondering why I gathered you all here today. Ahem.
> 
> I'm here to share my crap with you! :D Aren't you excited!? Okay, well, this has been in the works for some time now. I've gotten most of the outline done, finally, but for the longest time this was just sitting in my head as an idea because I'm trash. I love Star Trek and I love Bioshock. Not to worry, it's more Star Trek than anything else. If you've never played Bioshock, I don't want you to worry. I want you to be a little ashamed of yourself, but not worried. The Bioshock-esque of this is mainly in the setting of the underwater city - and what with it being all creepy and the like. Crazy people everywhere. There's no Andrew Ryan or Big Daddies or Little Sisters or any of those elements in this, though. There's technically 'plasma' use, not from the Trek crew, but for the CRAZIES down in the city, but it's not actual plasma injections like in the game. It's just experimenting. Since Star Trek is already so far into the future, didn't seem like such a stretch to try fiddle with genetic engineering.
> 
> This is AOS timeline Star Trek, so our dear Nero Shrimp has come and just messed everything all up to hell and back. Therefore, I have taken liberties. Nothing drastic, really. Nothing that couldn't technically be possible in this realm of Star Trek, what with there already being space flight and aliens. Really, compared to that, a creepy underwater city isn't that big of a deal. Point is...liberties, people. Liberties.
> 
> I love James T. Kirk...but I want him to suffer a bit before we make him happy.  
> So there's going to be Tarsus IV stuff for Jimmy boy to deal with - and some other stuff.  
> Don't come at me. IDK why I am the way that I am. I just is.
> 
> Disclaimer: If you recognize it - I don't own it.

The beeping of the monitor situated just behind his hospital bed alerted Jim that he was, in fact, alive. Bright blue eyes stared at the heart-line showing his heart rate at a steady 89BPM, as if the numbers would somehow change to reflect the fact that Jim Kirk should honestly be dead. The numbers didn't change, however, and instead kept Jim in a sort of trance as he stared at the monitor, eyebrows furrowed deeply in contemplation and mouth set into a hard frown. It wasn't that the blonde didn't know _how_ he was alive. He had heard Bones tell him quite clearly, in fact. That didn't mean that he understood _why_.

_"Tell me, are you feeling homicidal, power-mad, despotic?"_

The question had been made in jest, and Jim had managed to laugh along with his friend at the time, but now he wondered. How _did_ he feel? He couldn't physically tell that it wasn't his blood coursing through his veins, and yet he could swear his skin itched and crawled in ways that it shouldn't. Bones, however, had told him that he was going to be just fine and really, who was he to question someone with a medical degree? Still, Jim couldn't deny the way that he just felt _off._ Whether or not that was due to him now having the blood of a homicidal maniac or for another reason, Jim couldn't really tell yet.

_"Why am I alive, Bones?"_

_"Don't be so melodramatic. You were barely dead."_

Perhaps he was being dramatic. Perhaps all this existential thinking wasn't going to do anything but make his headache worse. A plate of food sat in front of him, already cold after being ignored for so long, and Jim turned back to it. For the fifth time he lifted his hand and gingerly grabbed onto the plastic fork, holding it loosely and slightly hovering above the tray. He didn't want to eat. The door swished open and Bones himself strolled in, white medical uniform looking sharp and pristine, as everything else in the room did, head down as he read through what Jim assumed was his medical chart. He placed the fork down again and gently folded his hands into his lap, not missing his friend muttering something under his breath. Bones stopped short at the foot of Jim's hospital bed, looking up with a sigh and practically tossing the chart between Jim's feet.

"You know, you could make my job a lot easier by not being allergic to everything known to existence," Bones said flatly. Jim lifted his lips into an easy smirk.

"Well you know us preemies. Always having issues."

Bones snorted at that and crossed his arms. "Well, the last bit of your medication is on the way. You're allergic to the local stuff so we had to order some of it, should be here by tomorrow." He moved around to check his monitor and fiddle with a few of the IV's attached to Jim's hands and arms. Jim frowned a little.

"Bones, would you quite fiddling with me and go help someone who actually needs medical attention?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Bones face instantly morphed into something sour as he regarded his bedridden friend, eyes squinting a little in what Jim was certain was annoyance. Before he could say anything Jim threw his hands up in surrender. "I know, I know! I suck."

Bones stared at him for a long minute before snorting again and picking up Jim's chart, heading for the door. "You're a rotten patient, if that's what you mean." The doctor stood at the door as it opened, the sound of the intercom paging certain people and footsteps could be heard just outside the threshold. Bones then took a look at the tray full of food in Jim's lap and rolled his eyes. "Jim, eat your damn food. I know hospital food isn't the best, but you need it to get healthier and besides, there are starving people in the universe that would consider it to be a gourmet dish - hospital food or not."

Something very ugly twisted in Jim's chest and he immediately looked down, avoiding the doctor's eyes as he stared at the food, breathing in deeply. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

If Bones could sense the sudden tension in the air, he didn't say anything, and Jim didn't look back up at him. Instead, he could hear Bones shifting on his feet. "I'll be back to check on you later," he told him, the door making it's swishing noise again as it closed. Jim grit his teeth, staring hard the food in front of him as he tried to control his temper.

_It's not his fault. He doesn't know._

Feeling nauseous, Jim swallowed his anger and picked up his fork again, beginning the process of shoveling the food into his mouth and forcing it down his throat so he could swallow around it.

* * *

Spock stood just outside Admiral Paris's door, posture perfect but relaxed. His hands were clasped together behind his back as he waited to hear the Admiral's acknowledgement of his being there. A message had been left for him on his personal computer located inside his quarters from Admiral Paris herself, asking Spock to meet with her at his earliest convenience. Naturally he got himself prepared for the day and ate a quick breakfast before making his way to her office.

"Enter!"

After waiting for approximately 28.4 seconds, the doors opened and Spock stepped into the room. It was a large office, though currently felt much smaller thanks to the disarray. There were empty cases thrown about, books piled in different sections, and personal items that looked like they were being sorted in some fashion. Spock took a quick survey of the room before turning to look at the Admiral, her back to him as she pulled out a few more books from the shelf. He came to stand at attention.

"Admiral Paris. You asked to see me?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and waved him towards the free chair sitting in front of her desk, face determined but overall posture relaxed. "Yes, Commander. Please take a seat."

He did so, his posture still perfect but relaxed even while sitting down. Admiral Paris finished rifling through the stack of books she had pulled out before standing with a sigh, stepping over several items on the floor and sitting down behind her desk. "Please excuse my mess," she started. "I'm being transferred to a new space station shortly and if I don't start packing now I'll procrastinate until it's too late."

Her explanation, though thorough enough for Spock to understand, still left him a little confused. He quirked an eyebrow up at her. "You are aware of the poor effects a decision like procrastinating will have, and yet you seem confident you will go through with it regardless." Admiral Paris offered him a patient smile as she folded her hands together.

"Correct, Commander. Humans are funny that way." Spock mused over this for a second, but decided against responding. There were often times when human behavior completely eluded him, however, he failed to see how certain illogical behavior was considered to be humorous. He had also heard at times that illogical behavior was 'part of their charm', and he couldn't quite decide how that worked, either. "How is Captain Kirk?" she asked him then, knowing he wouldn't pursue in any kind of 'small talk' - for which he was grateful for.

"The Captain is recovering at an acceptable rate. Dr. McCoy has been meticulous about his recovery process," Spock explained. Paris nodded along to his answer, shifting a little in her seat. Spock watched her demeanor carefully, always a little confused by human behavior no matter how hard he tried to understand all of it, but it seemed that the Admiral was almost trying to avoid moving directly onto the subject and yet knowing there was no alternative.

"That's good. I've read from the crew reports that construction on the Enterprise is moving along well and your crew are getting some much deserved rest. I don't mean to keep you from it, Commander," she told him. She sat forward again, this time almost fidgeting. It had Spock rather curious, he had to admit. He said nothing again - her statement not requiring any response from him. If she had read the crew reports then she had no need to hear a confirmation from Spock. As to his 'deserved rest' she was keeping him from, he found it unnecessary to inform her that she wasn't keeping him from it at all, knowing she already knew that. Additionally, Starfleet business always came before rest, a fact both of them knew. "You have already received your new assignment."

This had both of Spock's eyebrows raised as he regarded the Admiral, unable to hide the questioning gaze in his eyes. "I believe the correct turn of phrase is, 'that was fast.'"

The Admiral smiled a little and agreed with him. "It's a pretty big mission, Commander. Daunting, even. Though hopefully not unwelcome. I would wait until Captain Kirk is fully recovered to tell this to both of you, but the rest of the Admiralty would like you and the Captain to begin preparing as soon as possible," she started. She hesitated again, offering up an apologetic smile. "Honestly I think the Enterprise crew should get longer shore leave than a year, but regardless…the Enterprise will be taking on a five year mission. To explore deep space and uncharted territory."

This information surprised Spock, though he was very careful not to let it show in his features. The Admiral looked at him, expectant of something, of what he wasn't completely sure. "A five year mission?" he clarified. Admiral Paris chuckled a little.

"Yes, I know. That's quite a long time to be drifting out there in the black. You and the Captain have already been through what most Captains and their First Officer's take years of working together to achieve. Not just harmony, but a trust that helps the efficiency of your crew, of which have performed admirably in both the Nero incident and now with this whole mess of Khan. That and the fact that you and Captain Kirk command the flagship, well, the rest of the Admiralty and I agree that there isn't a better option than the Enterprise."

Spock's face remained impassive, though he had to admit to himself he was a little put off by her regard for him and the crew of the Enterprise. It wasn't necessarily that she was wrong, but to have two complicated situations summed up so arbitrarily was unsettling to him. He wasn't certain as to why - something that had been happening to him a lot in ever since Jim had died. He tucked the thought away to think about while in meditation at a later time. "Thank you, Admiral."

"I trust you will inform Captain Kirk?" she asked him, seeming to want to get back to her 'packing'. Spock nodded and stood up from his chair, hands coming to a rest behind him once more.

"Of course, Admiral. Is there anything else?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. She looked at him, almost as if she was measuring him up, but after a moment she nodded yes.

"You are being assigned a new crew member," she told him. Spock's eyebrows furrowed minutely.

Though he was Vulcan, it did not mean that he did not feel emotions such as pain. In many ways, Vulcans felt more deeply than humans, it was the control over emotions that made Vulcans seem 'emotionless', as he has been told many times. Though the Admiral meant no harm in her words, and Spock logically knew that very well, he couldn't stop the wave of pain that hit him at the reminder of the casualties left in the path of destruction left by General Marcus and Khan. He did not know each and every one of his crewmen personally, but he remembered every name on their roster and every face. It was a very disorienting feeling to feel such pain at the loss of life, and there was even something akin to guilt tugging at him over it. As First Officer, it was his and Jim's responsibility to take care of the crew - something they had failed at even if circumstances had made it unavoidable. Loss was to be expected, logical even, and yet Spock could feel the void inside of him where their fallen crew had taken up space.

Spock pushed it into the back of his mind to reflect on at a later time, away from prying eyes and not while he was supposed to be concentrating on business. "In the wake of Khan, Enterprise has lost a lot of crewmen. I assumed we would be getting multiple new additions to make up for the loss."

"Oh, yes. There is one in particular, however, that I think you should know about. I want you and the Captain to meet with her as soon as he is feeling well enough. I will send you her information to your PADD for you to look over."

Spock's curiosity was peaked. Why such importance over a single crewmen? Any high ranking officers would of course be vetted personally by both Spock and the Captain, but even that didn't warrant special attention from the Admiralty.

"Very well."

"That's it, then. Thank you, Commander and if I haven't said so already, congratulations. You're dismissed."

* * *

Jim was propped up in his hospital bed, PADDs thrown all around him in a haphazardly fashion, just the way he liked it. He picked through them, ignoring the still beeping monitor behind him and the thoughts still sitting in the back of his brain, and methodically went through all of the reports he needed to get through. Repair reports, maintenance reports, crew requests, questions from various members of the Admiralty, personal correspondence between himself and his mother, etc. Whoever said being Captain was all about getting to sit in the chair and look cool was full of it, as far as Jim was concerned.

He at least had his music going. His head unconsciously bobbed to the music, mouth forming around the words as they quietly fell from his lips, the music much too loud for the size of the room Jim was in. However, as private quarters were sound proofed, he had hijacked the audio system and felt the need to blast whatever the hell he felt like. Right now it was bit of classical music, though the name of the band he couldn't quite remember - something about a dude named Benjamin. It made a lot of noise and had a good beat, and that's as far as Jim could make himself care at the moment.

He was still bopping his head to the beat as he read through an engineering report, eyebrows furrowing at the update. As soon as he was able he was going to head up to the space dock and give them a hand. He was completely immersed in his work when the music cut off abruptly, causing Jim to jump a little and look up with wide eyes, a little embarrassed to be caught so off guard. Bones was looking at him with a heavy scowl on his face and his arms crossed, Spock only slightly behind him with an eyebrow raised in Jim's direction. Jim formed his own scowl and gave it right back to Bones.

"I was listening to that," he muttered petulantly.

"How the hell did you manage to - oh you know what? Forget it. What are you doing?" Bones asked, coming up to the bed and glaring at all the PADDs surrounding Jim, as if they had offended him in some way. Jim suddenly clutched the one he was holding to his chest defensively.

"Reading."

"You should be resting, idiot."

"Re- Bones!" Jim hollered, glaring at his friend now. "Bones. All I've _done_ is rest. For _weeks_ I have been resting."

Bones rolled his eyes and Jim had to refrain from punching his friend, who he loved very much, right in the face. "Working isn't resting. Though I admit, I'm surprised I've kept you in this bed for so long. It's a new record or something."

"Yeah, and you're pushing your luck with that one, now that you mention it," Jim said through clenched teeth.

"I wonder if you are in fact working, Jim." The blonde turned his eyes from Bones to the Vulcan standing just behind him. He stepped out from around Bones and stood at the foot of the bed, gaze wandering over the mess in Jim's lap. "This is not functional."

"Hey!" Jim gathered up a bunch of the PADDs now and clutched them all to his chest, aware of how ridiculous he probably looked with pads hanging out of his arms and poking him uncomfortably in the chest and stomach. "I have a system," he started. "And nobody asked you, anyways!" he pouted. "You know, if all you guys are gonna do is pester me, you can go back to where you came from." Bones rolled his eyes.

"Jim, I cannot go back to where I came from as Nero destroyed Vulcan in 2258, as you very well know," Spock said casually. The room was eerily quiet for a moment as both Bones and Jim stared at him incredulously. Spock looked up from Jim's _mess_ to look him in the eye, the small lift on one side of his lips and the glint in his eye told Jim that he was messing with him. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Spock, remind me at a later time to discuss your joking habits. I find them morbid and macabre," Bones muttered, mouth in a hard line. Spock raised an eyebrow at him before looking back at Jim.

"Dark humor is good for the soul," Jim offered with a shrug.

"Thank you, Jim."

"Don't take the hob-goblin's side!"

"There is no need for name calling, Doctor."

"Did you guys need something?" Jim asked, teeth clenched again and the vein in his head starting to throb.

"The Doctor was on his way to 'check on you'. I wanted to discuss the crew member request from Admiral Paris, if you feel you are up to it," Spock told him. Bones grunted a little and fiddled with all of the equipment still attached to Jim. Along with the blood transfusion, Jim had gone through extensive injuries. Broken bones, lacerations, contusions, etc. He looked over Jim methodically as Jim sat still for a change and let him do his work.

"Why do you always gotta mumble under your breath about how much you hate me?" Jim asked, quirking a smirk at the doctor. Bones glared at him.

"How you even managed to make it to the warp chamber, let alone realign the damn thing, is beyond me."

"Adrenaline is a very powerful thing," Jim explained quietly. He looked from Bones to Spock, who was watching him curiously but quietly. He looked content to wait patiently while Bones finished prodding and poking around. Jim regarded the Vulcan for a minute, his face pulled into a neutral expression as it always was. An image flashed across his brain of an expression that was not so put together and contained, but that was instead contorted with rage and despair. Jim hadn't been alive when Spock made the decision to go after Khan, but he remembered the look on Spock's face when _he_ was on the receiving end of his violence and it was enough to make him shiver. Jim almost felt bad for the ass beating Spock delivered to Khan - almost.

"Alright, I think we might be able to actually get you out of here soon, Jim."

"Thank God," Jim breathed a sigh of relief, letting his head fall a little. This hospital was driving him insane. He really didn't make a good patient. Bones was glaring at him a little again. "What? I don't like hospitals."

"Really?" Bones asked, raising an eyebrow. "With how much you're in one, I'd beg to differ."

Jim knew that, for the most part, Bones was teasing him. The words, however, were a little harsh and they felt tender. "Bones…"

"Hey, don't mind me. I'm just the one who gets to put you back together again every time you break yourself apart, and God forbid I annoy you with all of my medical attention and my dreaded hypos. Apologies from the pain in the ass doctor."

Jim winced at his tone. "Bones."

With a final once over of his chart, Bones folded it and shoved it into the holder at the foot of the bed. "I'll be back to check on you in a while."

He left without another word and Jim let out a groan and squeezed his eyes shut, head falling back against the head rest. "Damn it."

"Jim," Spock called out to him, voice softer than it usually was. Jim willed his eyes to open and he looked at his First Officer, feeling rather miserable at the moment. "Though Dr. McCoy's words were harsh, I believe it is because he cares about you."

Jim nodded and let out a sarcastic chuckle that held no actual humor in it. "Yeah. I know." The blonde took a deep breath and shoved some of the PADDs out of the way, holding out his hand for the one Spock was holding. Jim didn't really want to talk about it, which Spock seemed to understand and respect as he said nothing else but handed the PADD over. Jim was incredibly grateful for him in that moment. "What do we got?" he asked, eyes skimming over the information in front of him.

"This is the woman that Admiral Paris has requested us to meet."

"The robot?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow at the file.

"Captain, she is not a robot," Spock explained. "She is a cyborg. The difference is that -"

Jim cut him off. "Yeah, I know the difference. She's a mix between natural biological DNA and cybernetic enhancements and circuitry." Spock nodded at him, mildly surprised if the look on his face was anything to go by, Jim wasn't ever completely sure but he was getting better at deciphering the very subtle nuances of his First Officer's facial expressions.

"Indeed."

"What do you think?" Jim asked offhandedly.

"As far as her credentials go, it appears she would make a positive addition to the Enterprise. She excelled in the Academy at the top of her class and has recommendations from a large portion of the Admiralty."

"But-?" Jim urged him, finally setting the PADD in his lap and looking at Spock.

Spock tilted his head to the side, pausing for a moment as if choosing his next words. "I cannot find anything further information on her."

"Find? What…like…a background check?"

"Precisely."

"Spock, that's…well I mean she had to have had a background check to get into the Academy," Jim explained. Starfleet didn't just let you walk onto the property and start taking classes, after all. "You found nothing at all?"

Spock nodded in confirmation. "Correct. Before she entered the Academy there is nothing on her. No data on where she is from, the circumstances regarding her cybernetic additions, no information on her family if she even has any - there is nothing, Jim."

"That's…that's weird, right?" Jim asked, looking back at the PADD.

"It against protocol and Starfleet security."

Jim reached a hand back to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, confusion settling over him. "Wait…hold on. The Admiralty have to know that she doesn't have a background. I mean…I know you're discreet when you want to be, but the Admiralty isn't stupid."

"My only other hypothesis is that her information has been redacted."

Jim frowned, not really liking that answer any better. "Well, that doesn't make any sense either...and to be honest it's a little concerning."

"Agreed." Spock tilted his head to the side once more, eyebrows furrowing just a tiny bit. "More than her lack of background, what is most curious is that her request to be placed on the Enterprise is not truly a request." Jim made a face at that.

"Really?"

"Yes. I thought perhaps it was more of a request when I spoke to Admiral Paris, but as I looked through it on my computer, with the amount of recommendations she has and the amount of push they are showing…I believe it is not actually our decision to make. Rather, more of a formality."

Jim seemed to deflate a little, letting out another breath as he picked up the PADD once more, this time in annoyance as he glanced over the information. "Aella Jackson?"

"No doubt a fake name. The Admiralty and her fellow peers have taken to calling her 'Jax'."

Jim was silent for a few minutes, reading over the data and chewing on the inside of his cheek. What was the Admiralty trying to pull with this anyways? The Enterprise didn't need any additional computer help - not really anyways. So what gives? "Well," he started. "I suppose we should go and say hello to her, then."

Spock nodded, sitting back into his seat and straightening his posture once more. "I suppose we should," he acquiesced. "As soon as the Doctor clears you to leave."

Jim groaned and grabbed his pillow from out behind him, shoving his face into it. "Stupid Bones and his stupid hypos," he muttered childishly.

"His…stupid hypos…tend to keep you alive, Jim."

Jim pulled the pillow away from his face and looked to Spock, shaking his head a little. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean they're not stupid."

"Captain?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust me. They're stupid."

Spock was silent for a moment. "If you insist, Jim."


	2. Jax

In London it rained 106 days out of the year, accumulating a total of 22.976 inches of rain annually. The morning started out as one of those days, causing a chill in the air and dampness to anything that was exposed to the elements for more than a few minutes. The sky was gray and seemed to be angry as it released a steady sheet of water over the workshop, though it hadn't been able to stop the workers within. Aella let out a sigh as she twirled a thin code reader in her hands, eyes on the rain as it cascaded down in front of the shop. She sat atop of a red creeper, feet planted on the ground and arms resting on her knees as she watched the rain fall. The code reader in her hands was calibrating and she waited patiently, head slightly bobbing to the rap music that the shop owner liked to play. Her auditory processing scanned each song the second it started, though this was mostly an unconscious effort on Aella's part and more the product of her brain simply trying to perfectly identify what it was she was hearing. A lot of her parts seemed to work subconsciously, much like a typical human's body does. The song changed and Aella actually paid attention to her processor. What's Up Danger by Blackway - an old song, indeed. She reached her free hand back behind her head, fingers threading trough the mess of thick black hair at the nape of her neck and gently touching the cord attached from the buggy to her cerebral port, wincing a little at the feeling. It was always the most sensitive port she had for as long as she could remember.

She prodded at the skin around the port for a minute, trying to ease the discomfort, when the calibrator let out a quick chirp and lit up; it was ready to go. She let her legs fall and stretched out onto the creeper, using her free hand to grip the underside of the buggy and pull herself underneath it. The mess of gutted wires and pieces of the motherboard hung from beneath the buggy's internal computer, where the cord attached to her neck was coming from.

"Computer," she started. The buggy's computer beeped in response. "Run diagnostic for propulsion system."

The computer beeped again and answered, "Running diagnostic."

A data stream ran from the buggy and straight into her cerebral port, allowing her to see and process information in her brain as fast as the computer could scan it. She ran the code reader over the motherboard, taking into account what the internal sensors were reading and how the computer was processing. The error was easy to find this way - the propulsion for the buggy was malfunctioning because the motherboard was processing the code wrong, which was an easy enough fix. Her auditory processor picked up two sets of footsteps, one with a laid back stride and the other more purposeful in its cadence. She assumed they were here to speak with the shop owner, though why they would bother to trek through this rain rather than wait, she didn't really know. She focused back on her work, beginning to disconnect the wires from the motherboard, when the footsteps stopped right in front of her work station.

"Aella Jackson?"

Her fingers stopped their movement and she gripped the buggy's carriage, pushing the creeper back out just enough so she could see the two men standing by her legs. One was Vulcan - tall and with perfect posture, his hands behind his back and his face passive and a neutral expression in his dark eyes. The other was human, head tilted the side as he looked at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed over blue eyes, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

"Who's asking?"

"My names is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise and this is my First Officer, Spock," the blonde answered, with what looked like curiosity open in his eyes. She knew _of_ Captain Kirk and Spock, as well as the Enterprise. Everyone in the Federation knew who they were, after all.

"Most people call me Jax. What can I do for you, Captain?"

They both turned to each other, a small expression of surprise coming from Spock and shock being rather plain on Kirk's face. They looked back to her and Kirk shifted on his feet, in what she guessed was something uncomfortable. "You don't know?" he asked her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she regarded him, fully pulling herself out from underneath the buggy. She stood gingerly, aware of the cord still connecting her to the computer, and set the code scanner on the table. She reached up and felt for the port, fingers closing over the cord as she felt for the release.

"Computer," she started. It beeped to life once more. "Disconnect cerebral port."

"Disconnected."

She pressed the release and pulled the cord, disentangling it from her hair before setting it down on the ground. She stood to fully face the two now, head tilting to the side. Kirk was had his eyes on the cord she had just placed down, but looked to her face once she said, "I'm sorry. Is this about my work with the shop? Or is this Starfleet business?" she asked, unsure. She reached for a spare rag she kept on the table and began to wipe her hands off with it, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"We're here on the orders of Admiral Paris," Spock informed her.

"Business, then. I apologize for the mess. I didn't realize I'd be speaking with you today," she told them both, feeling a little unsettled. If she was supposed to be meeting any superior officers, especially under an Admiral's request, she would have expected them to have told her. "So again I'll have to ask, what can I do for you today, Captain?"

"You have no idea why we're here?" Kirk asked her, eyes narrowing a little as he thought of something. She frowned a little and shook her head no as Kirk and Spock exchanged another glance with one another. "You've been given your assignment," Kirk started. This surprised Aella, and she perked a little at the news. Not that she didn't enjoy her work here in the shop, and though she was really good at fixing things, she wasn't an engineer by any means. She had been waiting for an assignment for a while now. Why her assignment was being given to her by a Captain and his First Officer, she had no idea. "You've been transferred to the Enterprise."

It took her milliseconds to process his words, however, it took her a few moments to respond. She looked between the two, completely baffled at his statement. "The Enterprise?" she asked quietly, mostly to herself.

"You really had no idea?" Kirk asked her.

"Don't get me wrong, I mean…it's the Enterprise," she started out. "I'm not against the idea. I'm just confused."

"Well, it appears we're all in the same boat."

Aella raised an eyebrow in surprise at this, not fully understanding. "You didn't…?" she trailed off, not really sure how to finish her question. The air seemed to get a little tense with something she couldn't quite identify and she shifted, becoming quite uncomfortable. Kirk seemed to sense this and he looked out towards the rain.

"The weather isn't great, but how about we all get out of here so we can chat? Somewhere quieter?" he offered. She looked back towards the buggy and calculated how much time she'd need to fix it and decided she could do it at a later date and still make her deadline.

"That would be fine. Let me just tell AJ," she told him. She stepped around Spock and headed for AJ's office, her auditory processing picking up the hushed whispers of Kirk.

"What is this?" he asked Spock. "I don't know what game they're playing, but I don't like it, Spock. This is weird." Spock seemed to regard him for a moment before giving him a pointed look, reaching a hand up to tap his ear. Aella flushed and she went into the office completely, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey AJ," she started. AJ was a tall man, really gangly, with shaggy red hair and grease usually covering some part of his face. He turned to her, and then looked out of the office window to see the two visitors.

"Gotta go?" he asked. She nodded.

"It's…you know. Starfleet stuff."

"Ah. Okay, well I trust you can keep your schedule. Enjoy your…Starfleet stuff," he said teasingly, offering her a friendly smirk. She waved him off and left the small room, unzipping the top of the coveralls she was wearing and pushed it down to her waist. She stepped towards the back room and looked over her shoulder to find Kirk and Spock eyeing her curiously. She followed his gaze to her arms, and no doubt the ports that were visible on her back. She looked back to them. She was used to people staring, however, and didn't address it.

"I'm just gonna go change real quick, ok?"

"Sure. We'll be here," Kirk nodded to her. Aella took the time changing to try and relax herself. Admiral Paris was a woman that Aella had taken a liking to right away. She was stern, but fair and had an aura to her that commanded respect. She was excellent at her job and brilliant. Why she would push for a transfer like this, though, Aella couldn't guess. Even more confusing was why the Admiralty had neglected to involve her, and what she could only guess was springing her on the Captain and Commander out there as well. She felt kind of bad and unsure of herself, which wasn't necessarily a _new_ feeling to her, though it was always unwelcome. Once she had changed she grabbed her coat, meeting the two back out front. She zipped up the jacket all the way to her neck before grabbing her umbrella, catching Kirk's questioning gaze.

"I make people uncomfortable," she said as an explanation. Something shifted on his face but he said nothing, opening up his own umbrella he had come in with and as Spock did the same they all stepped out into the street together. The rain was too loud for them to converse properly, so instead Aella fell into step to Kirk's left while Spock took to his right and decided to take a good look at them from underneath her umbrella. They were young, but going by the way they carried themselves and the perpetual cloud of 'I'm seen some shit' hanging over them you wouldn't know it. They were at the forefront of not only the Nero incident but now this whole Khan and General Marcus thing. Spock was harder to read, most likely because of is Vulcan heritage. His face remained mostly impassive, a Vulcan trait by all means, and his posture was rigid and almost stiff. She had only known a few Vulcans at her time in the academy, and though they always had perfect posture she hadn't noticed it to be particularly tense.

 _Perhaps his way of showing stress?_ __  
  
She wasn't sure, but her focus quickly turned to Kirk. He was fully human, and though some humans had a talent for hiding behind an impassive facade should they choose to do so, Kirk didn't even seem to be aware of the emotion displayed on his face. His eyes were slightly glazed over, feet obviously carrying him on muscle memory, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He looked very tired with a few till fading bruises on his cheekbone an peeking up beneath his collar. Aella, of course, had no idea where his mind had drifted off to but it didn't look peaceful in any way. They came across a small cafe in the courtyard of one of the Starfleet headquarter buildings, Spock reaching out and gently tugging on Kirk's elbow to gain his attention. The blonde blinked a few times and came back to himself with a quiet sigh, opening the door and allowing Aella and Spock to enter first. They shook their umbrellas out and closed them, heading towards a secluded seating area in the back corner. The cafe wasn't particularly full, only a few people managing to make it inside before the downpour and now determined to wait it out inside rather than leave, so it was fairly quiet. The trio took a seat as a waitress came over, asking if they needed anything.

"Mint tea, hot."

"You're so Vulcan sometimes, Spock. It's not even funny," Kirk teased him. Spock tilted his head to the side.

"There are various errors in that entire statement, Captain. I admit, I am not sure how to even address it," he responded. He didn't sound offended by any means, though Aella watched the interaction with curiosity and even a bit of mirth.

"Oh, I'm sure you could come up with something," the blonde answered, turning to look at the waitress. "I'll have an espresso."

She wrote it down and turned to Aella, waiting expectantly. "Mocha cappuccino," she started, looking back out towards the rain. "Hot." The waitress wrote that down as well and left them.

"I haven't had a cappuccino in a hot minute," Kirk mused, leaning back into his seat.

"I usually get it iced - it taste better that way. With the rain and chill, however…" she trailed off, letting her hands fold into her lap. It was quiet for a moment as Kirk seemed to be thinking something over, eyes on Spock as they had another silent conversation.

"Do you have any idea why the Admiralty would want you on the Enterprise so bad?" he finally asked her. Spock watched her closely, something that would normally cause her to fidget a little but she stamped the notion down.

"I graduated at the top of my class. I have a unique adaptability that few other humans possess. I have the ability to integrate a ship's system with my own, the possibilities for that use are somewhat unlimited," Aella started. Though Spock seemed to be trying to burn a hole through her skull with his gaze, she kept her eyes on Kirk. "Tough why they would choose me, specifically, I don't know."

"Jax, I don't doubt your qualifications. As far as your record goes, you'd make a fantastic addition to the Enterprise," Kirk told her. The waitress came back with their drinks, handing them out with a polite smile and heading back behind the counter. She gripped her cup in both hands, the warmth from the cup transferring to the skin on her hands.

"Captain…I promise, I don't know why they asked for this. I don't," she told him, finally meeting his gaze. He looked at her for a long time, and Aella found herself unable to break his gaze, noticing that he seemed to be searching for something. Perhaps honesty? Aella wasn't sure.

"I will be candid," Spock interjected, allowing Aella to abruptly break her gaze from Kirk's unyielding stare as she looked at Spock. He wasn't staring as hard at her anymore - in fact he seemed rather relaxed to when he had first sat down. "You do not see to possess a background. Something I find to be rather troubling."

Aella's eyebrows shot up at this. "You looked into my background?" she asked, unable to stop herself from bristling at his words.

"As you do not possess a background, I very well could not have 'looked into' it," he answered calmly, completely unfazed by the anger she was projecting towards him. She gaped at him and then turned to Kirk, who at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up towards the ceiling, then back to Aella with a small shrug.

"With everything that just happened with Admiral Marcus…I just…it's weird that they're pushing so hard for you. We weren't trying to invade your privacy," he explained. Aella let out a huff of air and sat back in her seat, staring down at her coffee with a frown on her face. The air was a bit tense and quiet for a moment.

"Well, as the Commander pointed out, it's not like I have a past for you to invade," she said darkly, not looking up at them at this point. The question Kirk wanted to ask her hung in the air and she knew what it was, unsure on how it made it feel. Or perhaps it made her feel a multitude of ways. "I woke up in the desert in Arizona in 2252. I don't know how I got there and I don't know why I was there. I don't know how long I had been there. I was alone. The reason why you can't find a background on me, Commander, is because I don't have one. I wandered, did some independent work, and wound up joining Starfleet.

I've been studied and looked at by doctors, engineers, and scientist. They can't tell me anything either except that I used to be completely human. So whoever did this to me…why they did this to me…I don't know. I don't know if I had a family, I don't know when my birthday is, and I don't know my real name." Aella could feel how upset she was getting but she pointedly ignored looking up, still deciding that her coffee looked much more interesting. "So, you see, if my background unsettles you…then you can join the club."

It was quiet for a while after that, and quite frankly Aella just wanted to leave. She wasn't sure if this position, even if it was on the esteemed Enterprise, was worth all the cloak and dagger. Out of her peripheral she watched Kirk lean over and reach out, fingertips brushing across her wrist and the top of her hand.

"Hey," he got her attention quietly. Aella sighed and looked up to see him with a frown on his face and actual concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry if we upset you, Aella. I've found that I've become quite twitchy around the Admiralty now and…well, that's not your problem. That's mine. I apologize." She gazed at him and could see the he genuinely was, his emotion very plain on his face and easy to read. Aella mildly wondered if he did that on purpose. "We lost a lot of crewmen during all of this…and I think I'm just being over protective."

Losing people was always hard, especially those under your command. "I'm sorry, Captain. For your loss. Yours too, Commander."

"The Enterprise operates a little differently than most ships. We aren't just a crew, we're honestly a family. We operate as a unit and it makes for a very productive atmosphere. It also makes it hurt like hell when you lose them," Kirk started. "I'm not worried about your qualifications, as I said. Can you handle everything else though?"

"I don't know," Aella answered honestly. "I've never worked in that kind of environment before. I've made friends at the academy, but I've never considered people to be family. I know I'll put my best effort forward."

Kirk looked at her for a long moment, once again seeming to search for something on her face. This time, however, it appears he found it. He blinked a few times and his face cleared, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Okay then. Then that's that."

Aella frowned. "What about the Admiralty?" she asked. Kirk shrugged.

"We'll figure out what they're up to," he told her. "I believe you when you say you're not involved, so don't worry too much about it. I'm probably over thinking it anyways." Kirk turned from Aella to look at Spock, who was setting down a now empty tea cup. "Was there anything else, Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan shook his head and folded his hands neatly into his lap. "I believe that is it, Captain."

"Great," Kirk said with a clap, standing up. Spock and Aella followed suit. "Well then, Lieutenant Commander, welcome to the Enterprise. We still have about seven months before she's ready, but I suspect you're gonna want to get up there and talk to Scotty. He's our Chief Engineer and if you really are going to be integrating with Enterprise's systems, you should probably get to it."

"Yes, sir." Aella felt a mix of emotions, unsure of which one to settle on. She supposed she should just settle on excitement. "I have to finish my work at the shop, but I should be done by tomorrow. So I'll stop by the day after."

"No problem. Keep us up to date on how it's going, yeah?" Kirk asked, laying out a few credits onto the table and motioning for Spock to follow him. Aella nodded.

"You will need to schedule a physical as well. To whom would be your primary?" Spock asked her. Aella tilted her head a little bit at the question Spock directed at her. "Normally I would assume it to be Dr. McCoy, but considering your unique physiology, perhaps Mr. Scott would be a more suitable choice."

"Oh, uh…" Aella stared, shifting a little. "It's actually going to need to be both of them. Forty-six percent of me is still human, and it's integral that a doctor makes sure my biological systems are normal. However, unless this Dr. McCoy is also skilled in cybernetic engineering…" she trailed off, knowing Spock could figure it out. He raised an eyebrow at her and nodded his head.

"Very well."

"Yeah, Bones couldn't find his way from one port nacelle to the other. He's great with a hypo spray, though. Scary accuracy," Kirk explained with a bit of a shudder. "We'll speak soon. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you, Captain," she told him. He smiled at her and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

"Call me Jim."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, welcome back! So glad you could make it. Come on in, take your coats off, and have a seat by the fire.  
> Cookies will be served shortly. I hope you enjoy this, let me know what you think!
> 
> This one is a bit short, but I felt it was important to cut it off where I did.  
> Anyways, that's Jax! Lemme know what you think! (:
> 
> Disclaimer: If you recognize it - I don't own it.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think! :3


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